Motherland
by E.A. Week
Summary: Ever wonder how Ares was trapped in that crypt in “Xena Scrolls”? This story offers one possible explanation.


Title: **Motherland**

Author: E.A. Week

E-mail: eaweek@hotmail.com

Summary:  Ever wonder how Ares was trapped in that crypt in "Xena Scrolls"?  This story offers one possible explanation.

Category: Drama.  _X:WP/ __H:TLJ crossover._

Distribution: Feel free to link this story to any _Xena__/ Hercules or fanfic site, or distribute on a mailing list, but **please** drop me at least a brief e-mail and let me know you've done this._

Feedback: Letters of comment are always welcome! Loved it? Hated it? Let me know why!

Disclaimer: All _Hercules_ and _Xena_ characters belong to Rob Tapert, Sam Raimi, and Renaissance Pics.  I'm just borrowing them, honest! : )

Datclaimer: Rated PG for mature themes.

Possible spoilers: This story breaks with the canon of _X:WP following the episode "The Furies" and with the canon of __H:TLJ after the episode "Atlantis."_

Note:  This story originally appeared in the fanzine _By the Sword of Ares 4, published by Unicorn Press ().  It is also an outtake from my longer novella, _April Fools_, also available from Unicorn Press.  **This is an edited version.**_

I.          Neither of them said much on the trip south.  During the ride north to Vergina, they'd been silent from necessity and tension, the strain born of not knowing what awaited at the end of their journey.  Now their silence was that of relief, mingled with a pervasive sense of sorrow.

It took three days to reach the Amazon village.  During that entire time, they said almost nothing to each other, save necessary communication regarding food, shelter, and the horses.  At night, they slept on opposite sides of the campfire, wrapped in blankets of their solitary thoughts.

Shortly before sunset on the third day, they arrived at the village.  Ephiny emerged from a hut, her face pale with worry, eyes ringed in shadows of grief.

For Xena, the shock of seeing her friend could not have been more absolute.  She'd last seen Ephiny three weeks earlier, also at sundown, in this same village.  That day had changed everything.  But seeing the Amazon leader walk toward Argo, such an uncanny repetition of how she'd looked that fateful evening, the warrior felt as though their prior meeting had only just happened.

Ephiny stopped short of the horses and looked warily from Hercules to Xena, unsure of what had happened during their mission, or even why they'd undertaken it.  She only knew that Hercules had vanished five nights earlier without explanation.

"Xena, Hercules," said Ephiny.  She stopped then, as if aware how banal a conventional greeting would seem.

"Ephiny."  Hercules swung down off the horse that he'd borrowed from his stepfather, Jason.  "How are things going?"

"We're all right.  We lost another Centaur two days ago, but everyone else who was wounded seems to be pulling through."  As she spoke, Ephiny's eyes followed Xena, watching as the warrior dismounted from her horse and stood beside Hercules.  The Amazon took in her friend from head to foot, her expression registering stark astonishment.

"Xena, I..."  Ephiny trailed off.  "I'm glad you're back."  She couldn't see any point in delaying painful news.  "I'm sorry you missed the funeral."

Xena nodded, her face a composed mask, her eyes unreadable.

"You two must be exhausted."  Ephiny's mind took refuge in solid, familiar things.  She called for a younger Amazon to tend the travel-worn horses.  "Come sit down and have some dinner."

"Where did you put her?"

Xena asked the question so abruptly that Ephiny almost jumped through her skin.

"I..."

"Xena," said Hercules gently, "why don't you get some rest and have dinner first?"

"Take me there."  Xena spoke directly to Ephiny, ignoring Hercules for the moment.

Ephiny sighed almost inaudibly.  "It's this way."

*****

Amazon totems marked the boundaries of their burial ground.  Too much of the field had been overturned recently, the raw earth a reminder of warfare that had torn up the countryside.  Silently, Ephiny led Xena to a plot on the edge of the field, in the shade of a young cypress.  The Amazon withdrew, leaving Xena to say her farewells in private.

Xena hunkered down by the patch of overturned ground.  Before long, wild grasses would take root here and grow.  In another year, the spot would be unrecognizable as a grave.  Xena touched the soil.  Her heart wailed with grief, but her mind registered nothing.  She thought that Gabrielle would have enjoyed the thought of her remains nourishing grass and flowers.  She'd always taken the time to notice such things, the simple beauty of nature.  Sometimes she made Xena laugh with her enthusiasm, but secretly, Xena had cherished her friend's ability to take pleasure in the ordinary.

She tried to summon a coherent thought to send her friend in the Elysian Fields.  She would have liked to say, _You'll__ never know what you meant to me, but part of her could only think, _I'm so sorry_.  Sorry she hadn't been there at the end.  Sorry she hadn't been able to protect Gabrielle when it counted most.  Sorry she'd broken a vow made so many years earlier.  _

_Promise me you won't turn into a monster again..._

_I'll never forget you_, Xena thought.  _I'll never stop loving you.  I'm so sorry it had to end like this.  Her thoughts broke off abruptly at the faint sound of a snapping twig.  Xena's hand went reflexively to her waist, but the chakram was gone.  Her hand dropped to her right boot, silently extracting a long dagger.  Then she resheathed the weapon and stood, feeling foolish._

"Xena?"  Joxer wandered out of the trees, looking equally abashed.  "Where've you been?"

Such an innocent question.  Xena wished she could answer forthrightly, but instead she said simply, "Away."

Joxer looked far better than the last time she'd seen him.  He was clean, plainly dressed.  He held a bunch of wildflowers awkwardly in one hand.  The injury in his leg seemed to have mended, and the horrible bloodlust Xena remembered had vanished, replaced by healthy grief.

"How are Elin and the baby?" she asked.

"They're okay.  We, um... we're getting married next month."

"You are?"  It was the best news Xena had heard in ages.  "That's wonderful."  

"Yeah."  Joxer carefully set his flowers on the grave, then straightened up.  "D'you think... do you think she... cared about me?"

"I know she did," said Xena.  "Don't ever forget that."

He burst into tears.  Xena hesitated, then put an awkward hand on his shoulder.  Her chest constricted weirdly, her throat burned, but her eyes remained dry.  She let forth a couple of half-choked sobs, but no tears would come.  Joxer stepped back, taking in her appearance for the first time.

"Where'd you get...?" he trailed off, gesturing to her clothes: the long black cloak and the unfamiliar armor.  Xena didn't answer, but when she moved her arm, the cloak fell about her shoulders with a silent whisper.  "Your face."  He stared at her.  "You look... young."

"I know."

Joxer knew better than to press for explanations.  "What are you gonna do now?"

"I'm going to Corinth with Hercules."

Joxer nodded.  "I'm gonna to stay around here.  Elin's father is giving us some land.  I think we'll be okay."

Xena knew Joxer would be all right.  Elin was a humorous, patient young woman, with a big, generous heart.  If Xena's predictions proved correct, Elin would run their household and farm, keeping them fed and sheltered.  Joxer would probably raise their children.  He had no head for anything practical, but he'd been a wonderful father to his young son, maybe because he'd never really grown up himself.

"You'll be happy," she said.  "I know you will.  Congratulations."  The sky was growing dark.  "I have to get back to the village.  Have you eaten?"

"No, I, um... have to get back... I told Elin I'd just be gone for a while.  She'll have dinner for me."  Joxer fidgeted.  "Will you see Iolaus when you go to Corinth?"

"I'm sure we will," Xena responded.

"Tell him... I'm sorry," said Joxer.  "And give Erato a hug for me, okay?"

"Sure," said Xena, trying to smile.

She went back toward the village slowly, her heart made fractionally lighter to know that at least one of her friends would be all right.  Poor Joxer had loved Gabrielle with such a hopeless and touching sincerity.  But he couldn't hold a candle to the dashing Iolaus, who had wooed and won Gabrielle in the end.  At least now, Joxer's heart was free, and he could marry the woman who loved him.  Silently, Xena wished them a happy life together.  Joxer would heal eventually.  She wished she could be more sure of herself.

*****

The first person she saw when she got back to the village was Cecrops.  The mariner bounded across the clearing and swept her into an unabashed embrace, the first really comforting human touch Xena had experienced in weeks.  She would have wept, but her body again seemed weirdly unable to do so.

"I'm _so glad you're back," he said._

"I'm glad to be back," Xena responded.  "I owe you and Hercules both a lot of thanks."  She lowered her voice slightly.  "Thank you for trying to talk some sense into me.  I'm sorry I was so difficult."

"No offense taken."  Cecrops gave her a light thump on the shoulder.

"I need you to do me a favor," she said.  "My ship is still anchored off the coast of Koropi.  I hid the dinghy in a cove.  Go out to the island and let the people there know I won't be back.  There's a girl in the town of Istiala named Anissia, who I was training.  She's not cut out for village life, but I think she'd make a good Amazon.  If she wants to come, bring her back here to Ephiny."

Cecrops nodded.

Xena fished a key out of her bodice.  "This is the key to the castle treasury.  Pay my men a month's wages and disband them."

Another nod.

"My lieutenant was a man named Mierchion.  You may have a hard time with him; he may even think you killed me.  You can deal with him however you want."

"Anything else?" asked Cecrops.

Xena's gaze dropped slightly.  "I—there's slaves working in the town and in a quarry to the northeast.  They're mine.  Tell them they're free to go."

Cecrops didn't seem shocked, only sad.  Xena felt wretched, knowing how much she had disillusioned her friend, although she had not even begun to tell him the worst of it. 

Ephiny gestured for her to come over and have dinner.  Xena didn't feel hungry, but she knew she needed food.  She trudged over and sat at the wooden table.  Hercules was already there, and he gave her an encouraging nod.  Xena ate numbly, then allowed herself to be led to Ephiny's hut.

"You can sleep in here," said the Amazon, gesturing to an extra pallet on the floor.  "You must be exhausted."

Xena was silent.

"Xena... if you like, you're welcome to stay with us.  We'd love to have you in the tribe."

Xena shook her head.  "I'm going to Corinth with Hercules."

Ephiny nodded.  She could hardly blame Xena for not wanting to stay in this place that held so many reminders of her friend.  As if reading her mind, Xena's gaze went to the corner of the hut where Ephiny had placed Gabrielle's belongings, not quite sure what to do with them.

Silently, Xena walked over and picked up the familiar Amazon staff.  She ran her hand over the wood, then set the weapon back down, feeling like a limb had been severed from her body.  She opened Gabrielle's shoulder bag and rummaged through it.  Ephiny heard her make strange choking noises.  Finally, Xena opened the special leather satchel in which Gabrielle had stored her scrolls.  Xena tugged one out and unrolled it, then another.  After some sorting, she chose three and handed them to Ephiny.

"Give these to Joxer," she said.  "I'll take the rest."

"What about her other things?" asked Ephiny.

"You can keep her bag.  Do whatever you want with it.  And keep her staff here, too.  Maybe Erato will want it some day, if she joins the tribe."

Ephiny nodded.  Then she left the hut.  Xena unfastened the cloak and set it on the pallet.  She unfastened the harness that held her weapons, setting her sword and whip on the floor.  She removed the mail shirt and set it aside.  Finally, she removed her knee guards.  She lay down on the pallet and wrapped herself in the cloak.  Exhaustion blotted out consciousness.  She slept.

*****

They only tarried in the village one day, to allow themselves and their horses time to rest.  On the second day, Hercules and Xena saddled their horses, said a reluctant farewell to their friends, and turned the animals southward.

As they traveled, Hercules became more and more absorbed in his own thoughts.  Xena could tell he had something on his mind, yet he would not speak of it.  A sadness lingered about him, and he seemed anxious to get home.

After another three days on the road, the sprawling house where Alcmene and Jason lived came into view.  Xena didn't think she'd ever been so glad to see four walls and a roof.  She was exhausted right to the core of her bones.

At the stable, a groom took their horses.  Hercules surprised Xena by asking the youth for a fresh mount.

"I have to go to the palace," he explained to her.

"That can't wait until tomorrow?"

"No," he said.  "My brother..."

Suddenly, Xena understood.  With a rush of clarity, she recalled the emergency that had drawn Hercules and Iolaus back to Corinth, leaving Xena, Gabrielle, and the Amazons to fight the war themselves.

"I'm sorry, I'd completely forgotten."  She had been so preoccupied with her own troubles that she'd forgotten the Horde's attack on Corinth.  Hercules had gone to help his brother, Iphicles, fight off the savages.  "What happened?" she asked.

"He was wounded," said Hercules.  "He killed the Horde battle chief, but he took a bad wound in the side.  I have to go see..."

Xena nodded.  Hercules had to go see if his brother had survived the injury or not.  "You couldn't fight in his place?"

"They have no practice of a champion fighting in place of a leader," he said.  "To them, the king _is the chief warrior.  They wouldn't fight me, only Iphicles.  There wasn't any time, we couldn't speak their language, and the army couldn't have stood another attack.  So Iphicles had to—"_

The groom came over with a fresh horse.

"Any word on my brother?" asked Hercules.

"No.  Jason and Alcmene are still at the palace."

"I have to go."

"Good luck," said Xena simply.

"Thanks."  Hercules told the groom, "Xena's going to be staying here a while.  Have her shown to a room, and make her comfortable."  He led his horse out of the stable.

Xena followed the groom into the house, where he called for a female servant to attend her.  The servant led her up a flight of steps and along a balcony.  The spacious mansion had been designed with its living quarters in the northeast corner, to keep them cool from the blistering heat of the sun.  The rooms had been arranged around a fragrant courtyard.  Xena could smell herbs and spring flowers.

The servant took her to a room, lighting candles and torches.  She bustled about, setting out water and fresh linens.  She left the room, then returned with a gown over one arm and a pair of sandals in her hand.

"I thought you might want a change of clothes," she said shyly.  "This is one of Alcmene's dresses.  She's not quite as tall as you, but I think it will fit.  The sandals are mine."

"Thank you."  Xena felt absurdly touched by the woman's kindness.  She would appreciate fresh clothes in the morning.

"Are you hungry?"

"A bit."  Xena felt more empty than hungry, but reminded herself that she had to keep eating.

"I'll get you something."

When she was gone, Xena unfastened the cloak.  She held the garment to her face, breathing in the masculine scent that clung to the fabric.  For days she'd been hiding in this, although all danger—and need for concealment—had passed.  Feeling an odd sense of reluctance, she shook out the black silk and carefully folded the cloak into a neat bundle.

As she removed her weapons and armor for what would be the last time, Xena remembered vividly when she had tried to bury her past in a forest.  But Draco's men had come along with the villagers of Poteidaia, and then...  Xena glanced about, half-expecting Gabrielle to appear.  But she only saw the featureless pale walls of the room.

She undressed down to her red silk under-dress, removing even her boots.  There was a trunk in the corner, which she found empty when she lifted the lid.  Xena placed the cloak in first, then her leather battle dress, then the mail shirt, her gauntlets and arm bracelets.  She tossed in the knee guards and her weapons.  She'd let the boots air out for a couple of days before putting those away as well.

With a tap on the door, the servant re-appeared with some cheese and a round piece of bread.  She also brought a small bowl of fruit and a pitcher of cider.

"Thank you," said Xena.

"How long will you be staying with us?"

"A while," said Xena, sitting at a small table in the corner.

"It'll be good to have another woman in the house."  And the servant quietly withdrew, leaving Xena to have her late supper in solitude.

Xena ate mechanically, then washed and crawled wearily into the first comfortable bed she'd had the luxury of sleeping in for many days.  It felt strange to lay by herself.  She'd gotten so used to...  Xena pushed that thought from her mind.  She stared out the window, where the moon hung in the sky, almost full.  One month.  In one month her life had changed almost beyond her comprehension.  Xena sighed and settled into the pillow.  But sleep was a long time coming.

*****

Hercules left his horse in the palace stables and reluctantly trudged up the stairs into the main hall.  The vast building was quiet, but not, as far as he could tell, the muffled hush of mourning.

Memory flooded him.  A spring night, about a year earlier.  He'd come to the palace, after receiving an urgent summons from one of the king's messengers.  _"The queen is very ill; you must come quickly."  He vividly recalled Alcmene standing in the center of the hall, sobbing disconsolately, and knowing he'd come too late.  And the horrible, gut-wrenching howl of despair that had echoed down from the royal quarters.  Hercules had bolted up the stairs, knowing in advance what he would find: Iphicles, clutching the lifeless body of his five-year-old son._

Even more painfully, Hercules remembered Alcmene washing and dressing her grandson for burial.  He'd carried the boy down to the crypt himself.  Jason had held the body while Hercules and Iolaus lifted the cover of Rena's tomb.  None of them could bear the thought of putting the little boy in a separate coffin, so Jason had tucked the body into fetal position and rested him in at his mother's feet.  Rena, dead only two days, lay shrouded in muslin, her stillborn infant daughter beneath one arm.

Now, Hercules wondered if they would have to prepare another tomb, one for his brother.  Silently, he advanced up the stairs to the living quarters.  He paused outside the door to the king's room and pushed open the door.

Candles lit the chamber.  Hercules walked over to the bedside.  Iphicles lay with his eyes closed, looking terribly pale and small, but visibly breathing.  The entire room was spotless, the sheets were clean; there was no stench of sickness or death.  Hercules touched his brother's forehead.  Slightly warm, but not feverish.  The bandages around his left arm were clean and neat.  Hercules exhaled silently.

On one side of the room, a figure rose from a straw pallet that had been pushed up against the wall.  A young man with pale, curly hair and intense gray eyes put a finger to his mouth, then gestured Hercules toward the door.  This must be Ucalegon, the healer Jason had summoned.

"Are you his brother?"

"I'm Hercules.  Is he going to live?"

"If the Fates are willing.  His fever broke, and he came around a few nights ago.  If he wants to live, I think he'll survive.  I fear his wife and son may be calling too strongly for him."

Hercules nodded, silently willing Iphicles to live.  He had no desire to take the crown of Corinth, but he was his brother's only heir.

"Hercules?  Is that you?"  Alcmene appeared in her nightgown, looking like she hadn't slept properly for many nights.  She embraced her son tightly.  "When did you get back?"

"Just now.  I can't believe Iphicles is alive."

"Neither can any of us," she said, looking through the doorway to her younger son's bed.  "We wouldn't let him go.  I made sure that one of us was beside him, holding his hand, talking to him, until his fever broke.  When he came to, he said he could hear our voices."

Their conversation must have awoken her husband, because Jason appeared in the corridor, looking more old and more tired than Hercules could ever recall seeing him.

"Hercules, when'd you get back?"

"Just now." 

"Herk!  Is everything all right?"  Iolaus emerged from another room.

"Yeah, everything's fine," said Hercules, unable to believe his own words.  Weariness began to creep into him as he realized that the most grave dangers were past.

"Xena... what happened to her?"  Iolaus looked like he wasn't sure he wanted the answer.

"Xena's fine.  She's... come back to her senses."

"Well, thank goodness!" said Alcmene briskly.

"Herk," said Iolaus.  "What about...?"  He trailed off, glancing uncomfortably at Alcmene and Jason.

"He's been dealt with," said Hercules.  "He won't bother anyone again."

"Oh, no."  Iolaus' eyes went wide with dismay.  "You didn't have to...?"  The unspoken question of fratricide hung in the air.

"I'll tell you about it later," said Hercules.  "Mother, I left Xena at your house.  Can she stay with you and Jason for a while?"

"Of course!" said Alcmene.  "We'd be delighted to have her."

"She's going to need help," said Hercules.  He knew he couldn't keep the inevitable secret forever.  "She's... she's pregnant."

"Pregnant?" echoed Iolaus.  Realization dawned in his eyes, and he slowly wiped the back of his hand across his mouth.  "Oh, no."

"It's a good thing," said Hercules.  "The baby is what made her come back to her senses.  She found me.  I... helped her.  She's going to be fine, but she'll need someone to stay with until she has the baby and gets back on her feet."

"She can stay with us for as long as she likes," Alcmene reassured him.

"Thank you," said Hercules gratefully.

"So the army can rest easy now?" asked Jason.

"Yeah," said Hercules.  "There won't be any more fighting, at least for a while."  He felt almost giddy with relief to know that he no longer had to worry about Xena showing up in Corinth with an army at her back.

"Hey."

The four of them fell silent and turned their heads toward the bed.  Hercules hurried to his brother's side.  He reached over and took hold of the uninjured right hand, shocked at how weakly Iphicles squeezed back.

"How are you?"  The question felt almost comically inadequate.

"I've been better."  Iphicles tried to smile, but it turned into a grimace of pain because of the healing wound on his jaw.  "Hurts to breathe.  And smile."

Hercules blinked back tears.  "You'll be okay."  He pressed his brother's hand between both of his own.  "Stay with us, all right?"

Iphicles pretended to glare up at him.  "Don't get any ideas about my throne," he warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it."  Hercules managed a tentative smile.

Ucalegon, hovering in the background, coughed discreetly.  "He needs to rest.  Please."

Hercules let go of his brother's hand and reluctantly left the room.  Alcmene and Jason had returned to bed, but Iolaus lingered in the hallway.

"Let's get something to eat," he said.  "You can tell me what happened."

The two men went down to the kitchen.  Quietly, so not to awaken Falafel or any of the other kitchen staff, they found some bread and dried meat.  Iolaus located a bunch of grapes; Hercules slipped out to the well for some water.  They took their meal into the corridor and sat on one of the wooden benches.

Between bites, Hercules described everything that had happened since they'd parted ways:  Hercules remaining with Cecrops and Ephiny, tending to the wounded Amazons, Centaurs, and villagers; Iolaus returning to Corinth to warn Jason about the possibility of an attack by Xena.

Iolaus listened, his eyes growing occasionally wide as Hercules relayed the more fantastic details of his story.

"Wow," he said when Hercules finished.  "And this tomb... you said it'll hold him for good?"

"That's what Hepheastus told me.  I never thought this is how he'd return the favor he owed you."

"Yeah, that's pretty big pay-off for playing matchmaker with him and Aphrodite!"  Iolaus laughed, then sobered.  "How's Xena taking all this?  Will she be okay?"

"I think she'll be fine.  The baby's keeping her mind on this world.  I think she was trying to kill herself, throwing herself back into her old life like that.  Maybe she just wanted to get herself killed."

Iolaus had dark, haunted shadows in his eyes.  "I don't blame her for that."  He gulped more water.  "I can't believe she's having his kid.  Who'd have ever thought?"

Hercules shrugged helplessly.  "I see it as a blessing.  She saved a baby once before and it changed her life.  This time, the baby's her own."

Iolaus grinned.  "It'll be one heck of a kid."

Hercules stood up from the bench and stretched.  "You can say that again."

II.         A shaft of morning light across her eyes awoke Xena.  She blinked.  Outside the window, birds called to each other.  A soft wind blew into the room, carrying with it the scent of fields and trees.  The wretched heat and humidity of summer had broken at last.

She sat up, pleasantly aware that for the first time in months, her stomach didn't twist and heave.  She was hungry.  A moment later, she felt a familiar stirring within her womb.  The child seemed to turn and stretch, as if exploring the confines of its small world.  Xena smiled and put a hand on her belly.  She felt the pressure of a foot—or perhaps an elbow—then it was gone.

Xena got out of bed, washed up, and dressed, unlacing the sides of her gown to their fullest capacity, noting that she'd need another dress before long.  She tucked her feet into the sandals the maid had loaned her.  At first they'd been slightly too big, but they now fit her swollen feet perfectly.  She brushed her long hair and absently tucked it back in a braid.

After a quick stop at the outdoor privy, Xena wandered into the kitchen.  The cook seemed almost astonished to see her.

"You must be feeling better," she said, putting some food on a plate and gesturing for Xena to sit.  The entire household clucked and fussed over her.  After so much death and misfortune, having a pregnant woman under the roof seemed like a blessing, a sign of life and renewal.

"Yeah," said Xena, slicing off a piece of cheese.  "I am."  The cook had given her bread, apples, and water to go with the cheese.  As Xena ate, the cook cracked the shells of three hard-cooked eggs, then brought them over to Xena.  She vanished into a store-room, returning with a wooden dish of dried plums, which she set on the table with a little wink.  Xena smiled as she chewed.  The cook had borne three children of her own and knew all too well the ailments commonly suffered by an expectant mother.

"Where is everyone?" asked Xena.

"Alcmene's at market," said the cook.  "Jason's still in Corinth."  Xena nodded, knowing that Hercules and Iolaus would be traveling about the countryside on the king's business.  They stopped in to visit her from time to time.  The cook sighed happily as wind gusted in through the window.  "Smell that fresh air," she said.  "Be nice to not sweat over my fires today.  I'll make up some more bread for you."  Xena nodded in appreciation.  The cook baked special wheat bread for Xena, which seemed to sit better in her stomach than the more common barley bread.  Wheat had to be imported and was usually more expensive.  "And chicken broth."  The cook gave Xena's shoulder a squeeze.  "You should get outside now that it's cooled off," she admonished.  "And don't forget to eat your plums!"

Xena made a face, but finished her breakfast, thanked the cook, and wandered outside into the delicious autumn morning.

Summer was not a good season to be pregnant, and Xena's morning sickness had extended well into her fourth and fifth months.  At times the nausea had been so severe that she'd been unable to eat for days and could barely keep down even water.  Worse had been the bouts of vertigo: her head spinning, ears ringing, the horrible feeling of the world tilting madly about her.  Sometimes she'd been unable to sleep lying down and had had to sleep sitting up, propped on piles of pillows.  The intense, suffocating heat of summer had only exacerbated her misery.

Thank goodness for Alcmene.  The older woman had nursed Xena through the worst of the sickness and vertigo, coaxed food and water into her, sat with her, talked to her.  Alcmene sewed maternity dresses for Xena, and had the household staff weaving and sewing infant-sized clothes.  Xena thought with a fond smile of the trunk in her room, getting more full every day with blankets, diapers, nightgowns, and other sweet little things for the baby.

In back of the house, a large square of ground had been turned over in preparation for an herb garden that would be planted in the spring.  An old shed had been cleaned out and fitted with shelves for Xena to use as a workroom.  She inspected the space, making a mental list of supplies she would need.  Now that she felt better, Xena thought that she might begin collecting seeds and cuttings from common plants that grew in the area, work that would help occupy the remaining three months of her pregnancy.

Xena left the shed and strolled through the tall grasses toward the stable.  She checked on Argo, who could not be getting better attention than in the care of Jason's grooms.  While Xena had been sick, the men had seen to keeping the mare fed, groomed, and exercised.  Xena stroked the horse's yellow flank wistfully, yearning for a long, vigorous ride, wind rushing in her face...  Well, time enough for that in the spring.  For now, Xena chiefly concerned herself with staying healthy and injury-free.

From the stable, she walked up the road that skirted the southern edge of Alcmene and Jason's property.  The road curved up to the north, following the eastern edge of their land.  Beyond the waist-high stone wall, which Hercules had built himself, Xena could see Alcmene's small wooden house.  Here, she'd raised two sons, largely on her own.  When Alcmene married Jason, they'd purchased much of the land that lay beyond the stone wall.  The fertile apple orchards and vineyards in the northwest corner of their property had financed the building of the new house.

Xena thought of the first time she'd come here, with Iolaus, all those years ago.  Most of the land had been wild fields in those days.  Her army had been south, in the highlands of Arcadia, as part of her unsuccessful campaign to subdue the northern Peloponnese.  She remembered how she'd tried to get Iolaus to kill Hercules, and she flushed with shame.  And Hercules had helped her, time and again; no matter what happened, he'd always believed in her essential goodness.  Xena frowned, surveying the property.  She didn't think she deserved the benefit of the doubt, but Hercules had never wavered.  At one point in her madness, Xena had contemplated having her friend's entire family put to death.  Now, that same family had taken her in, given her a home, and would help care for her child.  Xena felt like a wretch sometimes, accepting their assistance, but where else could she go?  Amphipolis was unsafe, and the Amazon village held too many painful memories.

Despite her misgivings, the warrior loved the sprawling farm, which only made her feel even more guilty.  This place felt like the first home she'd known since her childhood, and the people in it her first real family.  Alcmene and Jason expected nothing for their kindness.  Perhaps for this reason, Xena felt compelled to start the herb garden, to at least contribute something to the household.

A movement further up the road caught her eye.  Xena squinted, then her face broke into an enormous smile.  She ambled forward, as quickly as her ponderous belly allowed, feeling her heart warm with pleasure at one of the few really bright things in her life.

Erato, all of three years old, caught sight of "Auntie" and broke away from her father and grandmother.  She ran down the road, shrieking, "Xena Xena Xena!" at the top of her lungs.

Xena hunkered down and caught the ecstatic little toddler in her arms.  "Hi there!" she said, giving the tow-headed girl a squeeze.

"Hi, Auntie!"  Erato planted a baby smooch on Xena's cheek.

Iolaus and his mother reached Xena's side.  She straightened up, smiling.  "Hi."

"My goodness, you've gotten big since last I saw you!" exclaimed Briseis.  She gave Xena's belly an affectionate pat.  "How much longer do you have?"

"Another three months."

"Three months?" Briseis echoed, staring doubtfully at the younger woman, as though expecting the labor to begin at any moment.

"I know," said Xena wryly.  "I'm hoping I'll have it sooner than that."

Briseis continued to rub Xena's abdomen until movement rewarded her.  "Here," she said, placing Erato's hands on the swelling curve of new life.  "Feel that?"  The toddler's blue eyes grew wide.  "That's a little baby growing."

"It is?" said Erato, awed.

"Can't you feel it moving?" asked Briseis.

"Yeah!" said the girl, looking up at Xena with wonderment.

"Just think," said Xena, reaching down to stroke Erato's soft, flax-colored hair, "before long you'll have a new friend to play with."  Xena had harbored no particular hopes for the baby's gender—she'd had many other things to worry about—but now she found herself suddenly wishing for a girl.  It would be so wonderful if her daughter and Gabrielle's daughter grew up together as friends.

As if reading her mind, Iolaus asked, "D'you think you're having a girl or a boy?"

"I can't tell," said Xena.  "A girl would be nice, though."  For the first time, she wondered what the baby would look like.  When she thought of a girl, she imagined a child vaguely like herself.  But what if it were a boy?  Xena envisioned a lanky adolescent with a tangled mane of curly black hair and dark eyes....  She pushed away the image, but found herself hoping for a daughter even more strongly.  If she had a son, she would love him just as dearly, but she knew full well she'd fret endlessly that he might turn out like his father.

Iolaus observed her troubled expression and gave her elbow a little squeeze.  "Hey, maybe you're having twins.  You might have one of each, you know."

Xena glared at him humorously.  "Be silent, evil man!"  Briseis laughed, and Erato joined in with her childish giggle.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you were having twins," said Briseis as they strolled back towards the house.  Xena took one of Erato's hands, Iolaus the other.  "I can't believe how big you've gotten."

"It doesn't feel like two," said Xena.  "But it's going to be tall, no matter what."  Male or female, she knew that her child would be at least six feet tall one day, if not taller.

Briseis gazed enviously up at Xena.  "I'll say!"

When they approached the house, they saw Alcmene, standing by the stables and waving.  She must have just gotten back from market.  Erato ran to embrace "great-Auntie."

"What a love, huh?" said Iolaus, glowing with pride and affection.

"She's wonderful," said Xena, with more feeling than she realized.  Erato was so like Gabrielle that it almost broke Xena's heart.  The only ray of light that brightened the dark clouds of Gabrielle's death was the knowledge that because of this child, part of her friend would go on forever.  Iolaus and Xena glanced at each other, bound together by their mutual sorrow at the loss of the woman they had both loved.  Watching Alcmene cuddle Erato, Xena felt a twinge of anticipatory excitement.  For the first time, she found herself looking forward to the arrival of her own baby.

"Iolaus!"  Alcmene let go of Erato long enough to give her son's friend a hug.  "Briseis—what a nice surprise.  I'm just back from market."  She beamed at Xena.  "I know you're going to be angry at me, but I couldn't help myself.  I found the softest lamb's wool, and I thought it would make a perfect blanket—"

Xena was laughing.  "Thank you," she said.  "How could I be angry?"

"Come in and see," Alcmene invited.

"In a moment," said Xena.  "I'd like to show Iolaus where my garden will be."

"Of course!"  Alcmene and Briseis took Erato's hands.  "Let's go see Cook," Alcmene said as the three of them went into the house.  "I'm sure she has something sweet in the kitchen...."  Their voices faded, but Erato's excited squeals lingered in the air.

*****

They walked quietly around the back of the house.  Xena showed Iolaus were the garden would be planted, then showed him her work shed. 

"This'll be great.  So, you're planning to stay around here for a while?"

"Yeah," said Xena.  "I can't imagine going anywhere else."

"Jason and Alcmene will be so happy to have a baby in the house," Iolaus told her.  "I'm sure they'd love you to stay as long as you want."

"I know," said Xena.  "It's hard not to feel like their charity case."

"Don't even think about it," said Iolaus hastily.  "They love having you here.  Alcmene looks happier than I've seen her in... well, in years."

"I feel like I'm taking advantage of that," admitted Xena.  She felt an enthusiastic kicking in her abdomen, and she smiled.  "They don't know the worst of it," she said.  "Iolaus, if I'd kept going the way I was, I'd... I'd have come here and killed everyone and burned the entire farm to the ground."

"But you didn't," said Iolaus.

"I was close," said Xena.  "You have no idea how close I was."

"But when it came right down to it, you knew protecting the baby was more important," Iolaus maintained.  "You did the right thing, Xena."  He saw the expression on her face.  "You're _not an evil person," he said stubbornly.  "You just... made some bad choices.  Everyone does, sooner or later."_

"Not the kind of choices that end in bloodshed," said Xena bitterly.  "Once, Gabrielle made me promise that if anything ever happened to her, I wouldn't turn back into a monster.  And that's exactly what I did."

"Xena," said Iolaus, "if you're shedding any tears over the pirates and mercenaries you killed, don't.  They weren't worth it.  Truth be known, you probably did the local villagers a favor."

Xena was still unconvinced.  Iolaus sighed.

"Look, in that whole time... was there anyone who you might not have killed otherwise?  Women, children, ordinary villagers?  Did anyone innocent really suffer?"

"No," Xena finally said.  "But that still doesn't justify—"

"I know, I know," he said.  "But what would you have done anyway?  Rounded up the lot of them and taken them to the nearest corrupt or spineless judge, who'd have let them go?  And they'd have joined up with some other pirate or warlord, and they'd have caused just as much damage in the long run, maybe even more."  He put a hand on her arm.  "No.  I know you.  You'd have gotten rid of them yourself.  The outcome's the same, whatever your motives."

Xena smiled ironically.  "Are you trying to tell me that killing a hundred men was all right because nobody innocent suffered?"

"I saw the damage that some of those men caused," said Iolaus harshly.  He curled a fist and pressed it to his mouth to keep from crying.  Callisto's mercenaries had been responsible for the death of Gabrielle, and in retribution, Xena had massacred the lot of them.  When he could speak again, Iolaus said, "As far as I'm concerned, the bastards got what they deserved.  Same goes for the pirates."  As part of her plans—ultimately abandoned—to build another army, Xena had killed a band of pirates and stolen their ship.

"I wish I could see it the way you do," she said.  "I just keep thinking that Gabrielle would have been so disappointed in me."

"She wouldn't," said Iolaus.  "I think she'd understand.  And I think she'd be proud of you for doing what you did to protect your baby."  

Xena looked at the floor.  "I missed her funeral," she said softly.

"You didn't miss much," said Iolaus.  "Me crying is not a pretty sight."  He tried to make light of himself, but it didn't work.

"I should have let myself grieve," said Xena.  "I gave into my anger instead.  I never should have—"

"Stop it," said Iolaus fiercely.  Now he really was crying.  "Xena... if you hadn't killed those men, I'd have done it myself."  He wiped his face.  "And I wouldn't have just put their heads on spikes, I'd have skinned them alive first."

"I shouldn't have left her alone."  Now that the self-recriminations had started, Xena couldn't seem to stop them.  "I let her go on ahead of me.  I wasn't there to protect her.  And then, I couldn't even think about _her_.  I should have honored her memory and respected her love of peace and forgiveness.  But all I could think of was revenge, finding Callisto and her men, and making them suffer!"

"I'm glad you did," said Iolaus.  "Do you think you're the only one who's kicked themselves for not having been there for her?  I do.  I blame myself every day.  I know Herk does, I know Cecrops does, and I know every last one of the Amazons does, too.  Even poor Joxer would rather have died than see one piece of her hair harmed.  Xena, we all blame ourselves for what happened.  We're alive.  She's gone.  It's not fair."

"I wish she'd married you," said Xena woodenly.  "She should have married you and settled down.  She'd have been nowhere near the fighting—"

"Xena," said Iolaus gently, "that won't bring her back.  And it's not even true.  She could have died in her own yard."  He sighed.  "And I don't think she'd have been happy.  She loved traveling with you.  It's why she left Potedeia.  She believed in what you were doing.  Don't second-guess her life for her."

Xena sighed and gazed about the bland, empty shelves of the hut.  She wished she could take comfort in her friend's practical wisdom, but she knew she would probably blame herself for Gabrielle's death until the end of her days on earth.

The silence grew awkward.  "When did you get back to your mother's house?" asked Xena, in an effort to talk about something less emotionally taxing.

"Last night."

"Erato's getting big.  She looks more like Gabrielle every day."

"I know."  Iolaus smiled, his eyes full of both happiness and pain.  "I hope you have a girl."  

"So do I," said Xena.  "Now watch, it'll be a boy just to spite me."

Iolaus laughed.

"How are things in the city?" she asked.  The king's recovery from his injuries provided a safe, familiar topic.  "Jason spends so much time there, Alcmene's beginning to forget what he looks like."

"Not easy," said Iolaus flatly.  "It's hard to look at a man who used to be able to do almost anything, and now he can hardly wash up without help."

"I understand his healer is very competent."

"He is.  He's done amazing things.  But healing takes time, and Iphicles is impatient.  He's like Herk: he's big, he's strong, and he's used to being the one who did everything.  Now he has to be cared for like a baby.  And I know he hates that Herk, Jason, and I have to be his arms and legs."

"He's lucky to have you," said Xena.  

"I'd do anything for him.  I wish I could jump inside his body and make it heal faster.  But it's taking time, and that's what's making him crazy.  I know I'd be out of my mind, too, if I'd been looking at the same walls for six months."

"Can he stand yet?" asked Xena.

"Not quite," said Iolaus.  "I think he's getting there.  He can sit up fine, he can write, he can feed himself.  His left arm's doing great.  But it's the wound in his side that's taking forever.  He can't stand up without leaning over because it hurts too much."

"Then he should stay in bed," said Xena.  "If he tries to walk before he can stand up straight, he'll hurt his back.  And if that happens, he'll never walk properly again."

"I know," said Iolaus.  "He knows it, too.  But he's still impatient."

"Muscle takes a while to heal," said Xena.  "And even longer to be able to use again."

 "He took a gash, this long," said Iolaus, gesturing with his hands.  "I was there when it happened."  His face grew dark, remembering that horrible day.  "I was amazed he didn't bleed to death right then.  Lucky for him, it wasn't too deep."  Xena nodded.  If the wound had pierced his body cavity, the king would be dead.

Iolaus seemed to notice the sun.  "We should get inside," he said.  He grinned.  "Don't want to keep the grandmothers waiting."

III.       "How does that feel?"

"It's perfect."  Xena made a minute adjustment to the laces of her new dress.  "There should be plenty of room in it," she said.  The skirt of the gown had been cleverly gathered, so that Xena could unlace it as her belly expanded.  "Thank you."

Alcmene regarded Xena's blossoming curves.  "I think you're going to have an early labor," she said frankly.

"I hope so," said Xena, sinking into a nearby chair.  "I'm tired of being fat," she smiled ruefully.  "And tired.  And having swollen feet."  She swung her legs up, briefly waving her pudgy feet in the air.  Alcmene clucked sympathetically.

The two sat in the spacious living area of Alcmene and Jason's rooms.  The outside windows opened to a lovely vista of the surrounding countryside.  The inner windows opened—as they did in all the rooms—to the courtyard gardens.  Fragrant breezes blew back and forth.  Xena loved the design of the house, how it seemed to bring the outside indoors.  She and Alcmene had worked most of the morning on a dress that would see her through the final days of her pregnancy.

Xena watched as the older woman gathered up her sewing things and tucked them neatly back into their small trunk.  Not one to sit idle for very long, Alcmene picked up a basket filled with little balls of brushed wool.  Taking the chair opposite Xena, she began spinning the wool into thread on a drop spindle.

"Do you need help with that?" asked Xena.

"You could brush and card for me," said Alcmene, giving Xena the small sack of unbrushed lamb's wool and a teasel.  As a young woman, Xena had hated these monotonous household tasks and had avoided them whenever possible.  Now, she relished the opportunity to keep her hands and mind busy.  She took out a handful of wool, and after inspecting it for seeds, grass, and other debris, she began brushing it.

A few moments later, the baby started kicking so enthusiastically that Xena exclaimed out loud and dropped both wool and teasel.  Alcmene hastened to pick them up again.

"Sorry," said Xena, laughing and rubbing her belly.

"Turning backflips already?" Alcmene asked.

"Feels like it."  Xena resumed her brushing when the kicking subsided.  The wool was incredibly soft to the touch and would make a wonderful blanket for the baby.  Alcmene spun the finest thread Xena had ever seen, and the cloth she wove rivaled anything the warrior had seen in a marketplace.  Xena was embarrassed by her own clumsy efforts at weaving, a skill that had grown rusty during her fighting years.  Even the maid's eight-year-old daughter spun a neater thread and wove a better cloth than Xena.  Alcmene had assured the younger woman that with practice, greater skill would come.

The repetitive rhythm of brushing provided a mesmerizing tranquillity.  Xena marveled at how soothing such simple tasks could be, a balm on her troubled spirit.  She studied the older woman sitting opposite her in the chair by the open window.  Alcmene had seen so much, had suffered such heartbreak, and yet she always turned a happy, hopeful face to the world.  Xena often despaired of ever achieving such peace.

"Did you have an early labor with Hercules?" she found herself asking.

"About ten days early, I think," Alcmene recalled.  "But at that point, I had no idea there was anything different about him."  A smile crinkled up her face.  "It wasn't until I was pregnant with Iphicles that I realized my first pregnancy had been unusual."

"When did you realize that Hercules...?"  Xena trailed off, unsure how to ask the question politely.

"When did I realize he wasn't my husband's son?" Alcmene finished candidly.

"I didn't mean to be rude—" Xena began, but Alcmene waved a hand.

"No, no.  It's normal to be curious.  I realized he was different when he was about nine months old.  Before that, I just thought he was a strong, healthy baby boy.  One day, I had him in his cradle.  He was playing with some toys Amphitryon had carved.  He was laughing and babbling, like all children do.  I was on the other side of the room, weaving.  Suddenly I noticed he'd gotten quiet.  I thought he was asleep and went over to check him.  Then I saw what had happened.  A snake had gotten into the cradle."

Xena's eyes went wide.

"He didn't make a sound," Alcmene recalled.  "He had the snake right below its head.  It was a venomous snake, as thick as a man's wrist.  The mouth was open, and I could see the drops of poison on its fangs.  Hercules had gotten hold of the thing with both hands.  I remember him staring at the snake as he strangled it, the intense look on his face.  I didn't dare say anything or even move, because I was afraid that if I broke his concentration, he'd drop the thing and get bitten.  So I just stood there and waited until the snake died."

"And then you knew?" asked Xena.

"I knew," said Alcmene simply.

"Was your husband angry?"

"No, Amphitryon was very accepting.  He didn't think it was his place to question the will of the gods."  Xena didn't miss the irony in Alcmene's voice.

"How did it happen?"

"I'd only been married about two months when Amphitryon went off to battle with my father.  It was part of the marriage contract our families arranged—Amphitryon was one of my father's lieutenants.  They were gone almost a year.  Then one evening, Amphitryon turned up alone on his horse, dusty and tired from riding.  He said he'd come ahead of the other men to give me the bad news in advance.  My father had died in battle.

"He came in the house.  I did what any woman would do: I helped him get cleaned up and comfortable.  I only had one servant at the time, and she helped me get our dinner.  Amphitryon talked about the war, how horrible it had been, and how sorry he was to have to break the news about my father.  He said how glad he was to see me.  We ate and we talked.  Then we went to bed."  Alcmene shrugged.  "He was my husband, and I was glad to have him back.

"The next day, when I woke up, he was gone.  His horse was gone.  I thought he must have ridden out to join the other men.  Around noon, the whole party turned up.  Amphitryon couldn't understand why I didn't greet him with more excitement.  My father's body was in a wagon, and Amphitryon didn't understand how I already knew he was dead.  I was confused and said, 'You told me when you were home last night!'  And then he told me that he'd never been home the previous night.  He'd been on the road with his men all the time."

"What did he think?" asked Xena.

"He didn't know what to think," Alcmene responded with a laugh.  "But he believed me, and he knew that I would never be unfaithful to him.  He insisted that we get my father buried before we did anything else.  After the funeral, Amphitryon went to an oracle, who told him that the man I'd thought was my husband was in fact Zeus.  As far as Amphitryon was concerned, I was blameless.  He accepted what had happened and never held me at fault for it."

"And when you realized you were pregnant, he assumed the baby was his?"

"If he questioned it, he never said so to me," said Alcmene.  "I was having a difficult enough time as it was with the pregnancy.  I was like you—the sickness, the vertigo.  Everyone told me that it was normal for a first baby.  I believed them, but I think at the back of my mind, I knew that this couldn't be normal.  I'd seen pregnant women, and none of them had ever been as bad as me.  When Hercules was born, Amphitryon accepted the baby as his own.  But when Hercules strangled the snake... that's when I knew."

In Xena's belly, the baby started a lusty kicking.  She tried to imagine the child's power, the things of which it would be capable.  One day, its strength might well rival that of Hercules.

She plucked the brushed wool off the brushes and began carding it, the most tedious part of the process.  Xena glanced about the room, noticing—not for the first time—a collection of children's toys on one of the shelves.

"Whose were those?" Xena asked, nodding toward the shelf.

"Some of them belonged to Hercules and Iphicles," Alcmene responded.

"I like the ram in front," she said.  The animal had been carved from a small piece of wood and painted gold, with bright blue horns.

"Jason made that."

Xena set down her carding and went to take a better look.  The toy bore clear signs that a child had used it to cut his teeth on. 

"A little golden fleece," she laughed.

"That was Alector's," said Alcmene softly.  "It was his favorite toy."

For a moment Xena couldn't place the name, then with a pang in her heart, she realized that Alcmene meant one of her dead grandchildren.  The warrior quickly set down the toy and went back to her seat.  Alcmene continued to spin in silence.  All the animation had gone out of her face, and she suddenly looked like an exhausted old woman.

"I'm sorry," said Xena.

"It's not your fault."  Alcmene let the spindle drop into her lap.  She gazed out the window, as if looking back on the lost years.  "I think the hardest part about the sickness was that it took so many young people.  I don't know of anyone much over your age who became ill.  Only the young—children and babies, especially."  Her mouth trembled.  "Rena was seven months' pregnant.  She'd had a hard time with Alector, and the midwife told her to wait at least a year before she tried to have another baby.  Then she kept miscarrying.  She and Iphicles were so happy when she didn't seem to have any problems with the last one.  But Rena became sick, and nothing could be done for her.  She went into labor two months too soon."  Alcmene put a hand up to her eyes.  "I think the baby had already died from the sickness.  It was born dead.  Rena was so weak, she'd lost so much blood.  She didn't stand a chance."

"That's so horrible," said Xena softly.  "The poor woman."

Alcmene nodded, wiping her face.  "Alector was already sick.  We never told him his mother had died.  Two days later, we lost him, too."  Alcmene dropped her head into her hands and sobbed brokenly.  "That beautiful boy," she wept.  "He was only five."

Xena hauled herself to her feet and went over to put clumsy arms around the older woman.  She rested Alcmene's head on her shoulder, despairing that she would ever be able to give release to her own grief like this.  Still, comforting someone else at least provided her with a small measure of solace.

"My grandchildren," Alcmene sobbed.  "All my beautiful grandchildren are gone."

"I'm sorry," Xena whispered, rubbing her friend's back.  "I'm so sorry."  The poor woman had lost a husband, two daughters-in-law, and five grandchildren.  No wonder she welcomed the presence of a mother and child under her roof.

"This is foolish."  Alcmene wiped her face.  "It won't bring them back."

"It's normal," said Xena.  "You miss them."

"I know, I know."  

Xena went back to her seat.  After a few more sniffles, Alcmene resumed spinning.  "I'm so glad to have you in the house," she said.  "I won't deny it.  I'm probably smothering you, trying to get you to stay here."

"You're not," said Xena.  "You've given me a home, and I can't thank you enough for it."

"You can stay with us as long as you like," Alcmene assured her.  Xena nodded, remembering that Jason, too, had lost children.  Alcmene held up the wool thread to the light and examined it critically.  Smiling at Xena, she said, "And any friend of Hercules is a friend of mine."

IV.       Xena woke up, pulled from slumber by the urgent need to relieve herself.  She swiftly donned her gown and padded on bare feet down the stairs and out to the privy.  This had to be the greatest nuisance of pregnancy, she thought.  The baby's head must be sitting right on top of her bladder.

Around her, gray dawn broke over the landscape.  The cool, damp wind promised rain before the end of the day.

Xena waddled to her hut and checked on her seedlings and cuttings, nodding with satisfaction.  Then she left the hut and ambled back to the kitchen.  The cook's assistant emerged to throw out some water.  He looked up and saw Xena coming, then burst into uncontrollable giggles.

"I'm sorry," he gasped, quickly clamping a hand to his mouth.

"Don't be," she said agreeably, crossing the threshold.  "I know I must look ridiculous."

"Nonsense," the cook scolded her young helper.  "There's nothing more ordinary than a pregnant woman."  She helped Xena sit down, then went to get her some breakfast.  "It's not going to be too much longer," she observed when she returned with the wooden plate of food.      

"I still have one more month," said Xena, spreading cheese on a piece of bread.

"You'll have it well before then, mark my words."  The cook set down the inevitable bowl of dried plums, and Xena rolled her eyes.  "I can see you've dropped quite a bit in just these past few days."

"I hope you're right."  Xena picked up a piece of fruit.  "I'm sick of these things."

"They'll do you good," the cook chided.  She studied Xena's belly, as if considering something, then proclaimed, "You're having a girl."

"What makes you think that?"

"The way you're carrying it.  Most women, when they're carrying like you, have girls."  She briskly stirred one of her pots.  "That's what you want, isn't it?"

"It would be nice," said Xena cautiously.

A rapping on the door frame interrupted their conversation.  A young man stood awkwardly, glancing about the kitchen.

"I've a message for Alcmene," he said.  "It's from Iolaus.  He says—"

"Hush!"  The cook literally pushed the heel of her hand against the startled messenger's mouth.  "Come with me."  And she vanished outside with the young man.  Xena glanced questioningly at the cook's assistant, but the eight-year-old just shrugged his thin shoulders.

"Always up to something," he said.

*****

Xena learned Alcmene's secret the following day.  She'd left her work hut and had wandered back toward the house, when she spied Iolaus standing at the corner of the stables, waving to her.  Curiously, she trudged over to him, hands folded around her abdomen.  Inside, the baby turned and stretched.

When she saw the small figure standing in the stable entranceway, Xena's jaw dropped.  "Mother?" she asked incredulously.

"Hello, Xena," said Cyrene with a tentative smile.  Her gaze dropped to Xena's belly, and her mouth opened in an astonished O.

"How did you—Iolaus!"  Xena shot a stern look at her friend, who stood over to one side, arms folded on his chest, laughing quietly.  "You planned this!"

"Yeah, Alcmene sent me up to Amphipolis.  I left right after the last time I was here with Erato.  She thought you might want your mother here when the baby was born."

"I wondered why you left so soon," Xena murmured.  "Did you go by boat?"

"Yeah, there was a merchant ship headed up the coast," said Iolaus.  "Alcmene and Jason paid for my passage and Cyrene's."  He sobered.  "We put in at Potediea on the way up.  I talked to Gabrielle's family and told them what happened."

Xena felt a spasm of pain.  "How'd they take it?" she asked, fearful of the answer.

"They took it well, all things considered.  Lila was very accepting.  She said she'd had a dream where Gabrielle came and said good-bye to her, so she already knew.  She told me that Gabrielle would rather have had a short, happy life than to have stayed in Potediea and been miserable."

Xena nodded.

"Her father seemed to take it well, but her mother was pretty upset.  I didn't stay long."  Iolaus exhaled a gusty sigh.  "I think when Erato's old enough, I'll bring her up there.  I think that might make it easier for them."  Xena nodded again.  "Well, I'm going to find something to eat."  He left with alacrity, no doubt not wanting to intrude on the reunion of mother and daughter.

Xena led her mother from the dim stable out into the late afternoon sunlight.

"It's still warm here," Cyrene remarked, looking around.  "We had the first frost in Amphipolis a month ago."  For the first time, she seemed to really take in her daughter's appearance.  "Iolaus told me about your friend," she said.  "I'm sor—"

Cyrene stopped talking, and her hand went up to Xena's cheek.  "By the gods," she whispered.  "Xena.... you've gotten _young_ again."  At their last meeting, Xena had been approaching middle age—not old, certainly, but clearly no longer young.  There had been silver threads in her dark hair; fifteen years of traveling, fighting, and living mostly outdoors had taken their toll on her face and body.  Now, however, Xena seemed barely a day older than when Cortese attacked Amphipolis.  She looked for all the world like a maiden of twenty, although she was in fact thirty-five.  Only her eyes held the truth.

"How did this happen?" asked Cyrene.

Xena looked at the ground, unable to meet her mother's eyes.

It didn't take long for Cyrene to fit the pieces together.  "Oh, no," she whispered.  "Xena... no."

"I'm sorry, Mother," said Xena woodenly, crushed by a weight of shame.

"Well."  Cyrene tried to look on the bright side of things.  "So, you're going to have a baby," she said cheerfully.  "When—" she broke off again, and Xena knew that the identity of the baby's father must have struck her at that moment.  "Oh, Xena, _no!" she almost wailed.  She leaned against her daughter, sliding arms around the distended belly.  "Xena, how __could you?"_

Xena closed her eyes.  Of everything she'd ever done, she didn't think anything had made her feel more wretched than this.

"Let's take a walk," she said.  "I'll tell you."

*****

"Do you remember Callisto?" 

They'd walked up as far as the low hills that overlooked Alcmene and Jason's farm.  Cyrene sat with her back against a tree.  Xena lowered her bulk onto a stone with a flat top.

"How could I forget her?"  Cyrene evidently remembered when Callisto took over Xena's body, kidnapped every villager in Amphipolis, and very nearly burned them all alive.

"She'd eaten Ambrosia and become a goddess."  At this revelation, Cyrene looked horrified.  "It was my fault," said Xena, her heart heavy with sadness and regret.  "I let her have it.  It was stupid of me, but I thought I could deal with the consequences at the time."  She sat silently for a moment while she collected her thoughts.  "There was another woman, an Amazon named Velaska.  She'd also eaten Ambrosia.  I'd tricked the two of them and trapped them in a lava pit.  But it didn't hold.  Hera let them both out."

"Oh no," Cyrene murmured.

"But they destroyed one of her temples fighting, so she told them their powers would keep getting weaker, until they became fully mortal again.  The only way Callisto and Velaska could keep their powers would be to find more Ambrosia.  They were both desperate to get their hands on the stuff, and they went to war with each other over it."

Cyrene nodded.

"Gabrielle and I tried to protect the local villagers, keep them away from the fighting.  The Amazons and Centaurs helped us.  Hercules and Iolaus helped us, but they had to go help King Iphicles fight off the Horde.  A lot of the Amazons and Centaurs were killed or wounded.  One day, Gabrielle had gone on ahead of me.  She learned of a village that was in danger of attack, and she took two other Amazons to go warn the people.  By the time I got to the village... it was too late."

"I'm sorry," said Cyrene.  "I know you cared about her.  She was a good friend to you."

"I went mad," said Xena simply.  "It was like I couldn't stop myself.  I found the village where Callisto and her men had gone to ground.  She was fighting Velaska when I got there.  Their powers were almost gone.  I waited until Callisto had killed Velaska.  Then I killed Callisto and all her men.  I slaughtered them."  Xena's eyes were like deep shadows in her face.  "I put their heads on spears, then I burned the village to the ground."

"Oh, Xena," said Cyrene.

"And that's when..."  She couldn't finish.

Cyrene said gently, "_He turned up then?"_

Xena nodded mutely.  "It wasn't like I needed to be persuaded.  He didn't have to tell me to come back to him.  I was already there."

"You... went with him?" Cyrene asked uneasily.

"There was nothing to stop me.  We went back to his temple."  Xena didn't elaborate; Cyrene could use her imagination.  "At one time, he would have given me anything, but his first stipulation was that I raise my own army.  He wouldn't just give one to me.  I killed a band of pirates and stole their ship.  Then I sailed to northern Euboia and took over a town that had fallen under a corrupt warlord.  I pretended I was freeing the people.  I started building up an army, telling people it was to protect them from invasion.  I was out there for close to a month.  I was two days away from taking my new army and sacking the rest of the island when I realized I was pregnant."

"And he didn't know this?"

"If he did, he never said anything to me.  I was only a few days late, but I knew.  And I knew I had to keep the baby from falling into his hands.  He'd have turned it into a monster, just like himself.  So I found Hercules, and we... took care of him."

"Did you kill him?" Cyrene asked in alarm.

"No, we just... imprisoned him."

Cyrene shuddered.  "For how long?  If the lava didn't hold Callisto—"

"No, this was a trap set by Hephaestus.  There's no getting out of it.  I'm the only one who could ever set him free."

Cyrene breathed a sigh of relief.  "I'm so glad," she murmured.

Xena ducked her head.  "I wish it hadn't come at such a cost."

Cyrene reached out and squeezed her daughter's hand.  "I think that from every evil, some good must come," she said.  "You've proven that before, and you're proving it again now."

"Thank you."  Xena hoped her mother was right.

"When are you due?" asked Cyrene.

"The full moon after the Solstice," said Xena.  "But I think it'll come before then."

"I hope you have a girl."

Xena laughed.  "Everyone says that."

Cyrene got up from her tree and sat on the rock next to Xena.  They sat with their arms around each other for a while, not saying anything.

"You look so young," Cyrene said eventually.  "Did _he_ do that?"

"It must have been while I was asleep," said Xena, nodding.  "I just woke up and it'd happened.  I think he was giving me a few extra fighting years," she added bitterly.

"Vanity," said Cyrene, anger creeping into her voice.  "He wanted you to be young and beautiful.  He couldn't bear the thought of a mistress with gray hair and lines on her face."

"You're probably right," said Xena.  She smiled, although the smile did not touch her eyes.  "But I see it this way—it gives me all the more time to fight against everything he stood for.  To make more amends for my own past.  To raise our child to be as unlike him as possible."

"You have good people around you," said Cyrene.  "They'll help."

Xena rested her head on her mother's shoulder.  "I wish Amphipolis was closer."

Cyrene hugged her daughter tightly.  "So do I."

            *****

As they walked slowly back down the hill toward the house, Xena could see Hercules standing by the stable, talking to Iolaus and Alcmene.  He spotted the two women and waved.  When they got closer, Xena could see that Hercules looked happier than he had in months.  The light in his eyes suggested that a tremendous burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Great news!" he called.  When the two women reached the stable, Hercules continued exultantly, "He took a couple of steps without any help today!"

"Oh, is there another baby?" asked Cyrene innocently.  Everyone burst out laughing.

"No, my brother, the king," Hercules explained.  Xena knew that his joy stemmed not only from gladness for Iphicles.  Hercules had dreaded the possibility that he might have to take the crown of Corinth.  This milestone in his brother's recovery made the prospect less likely, at least for the immediate future.

"That's wonderful," she said, the good news giving her a small measure of optimism.  Despite the past few turbulent years, maybe the future would prove more favorable.  The five went inside the house for dinner with hearts made lighter by the encouraging news from the city.

V.        Xena exclaimed out loud and dropped her knife.  Conversations at the table paused as the others stopped eating to look at her.

"She's kicking me."  The female pronoun slipped out involuntarily.  Alcmene and Cyrene glanced at each other.  Xena pushed on her abdomen with a grimace.  "Feels like there's a foot stuck in my ribs."  Finally, she managed to pop the appendage free.  The baby turned and seemed to settle, then began vigorously kicking again.  Xena sighed.

"Getting impatient in there, huh?" said Iolaus.

"I'll say!"  Xena tried to eat, but the thumping against her stomach made it impossible.  She set down her knife and began rubbing her abdomen.  Her skin stretched so tightly she felt as though it would burst right open.  The baby continued to thrash.  Xena could already feel how strong the child would be.

Cyrene slid arms around her daughter, face glowing as she felt the baby move.  "It's only going to be a matter of days."

"Good," said Xena.  "My back is tired."  Every part of her body, in fact, felt achy and uncomfortable.  She could not recall feeling this way with Solon.  In fact, she'd continued to ride and fight practically until the day she delivered him.  She'd barely gained any weight, and her men had never realized she was pregnant—including Borias, the baby's father.  Xena herself had been in a state of denial about her condition until the labor itself began.  Her present pregnancy could not have been any more different.

Around the table, everyone smiled at her.  Hercules and Iolaus had been talking about events in the city of Corinth, where Jason remained.  Cyrene and Alcmene had taken to each other immediately, and they sat comparing their respective lives like a pair of old friends.  Xena was glad they were getting on so well, and she felt profoundly relieved that her mother would be present at the baby's birth.

A wave of fatigue took her abruptly.  Xena stood and excused herself.  Nobody seemed to mind—one good thing about pregnancy, she thought with a chuckle as she shuffled up to her room.  She could come and go as she pleased, sleep whenever she felt like it, eat whenever she wanted, and nobody expected her to observe conventional social niceties.  The indulgence and spoiling made her uncomfortable condition slightly more bearable.

*****

"This is where my herb garden will be," said Xena, pointing out the overturned earth to her mother.  "I'll plant things in the spring.  Come in the shed, and I'll show you my cuttings.  There's so many things growing wild around here, and—oh!"

"What is it?" asked Cyrene in alarm, but the answer quickly became obvious as a small pool of fluid began to puddle at Xena's feet.

"My water's broken," she said, feeling the muscles in her abdomen tighten.

"I couldn't have gotten here any sooner," said Cyrene, and she helped Xena back to the house.  The cook emerged from the kitchen, having quickly assessed the situation.  Alcmene followed her a moment later.

"I knew it couldn't be much longer!" she said, eyes full of excitement.  She and Cyrene helped Xena into the house.  The cook had her assistant run to the next village to fetch the local midwife.

*****

Hercules had gone out in the morning to run errands—two for his brother, one for Alcmene—and returned in the afternoon.  Iolaus had gone back to the city to see what Iphicles and Jason needed him to do next.  When Hercules entered the house, he knew immediately that Xena's labor must have begun: he heard the busy scurry of footsteps and the occasional excited, encouraging female voice emanating from the living quarters.

He went to the kitchen for a late lunch.  While he was eating, the cook vanished up the stairs.  A few moments later, Alcmene returned.

"How is she?" he asked.

"She's doing well.  It started this morning.  My guess is the baby will come sometime around midnight.  Maybe sooner, maybe later.  It just depends."

Hercules nodded.  He knew best not to hover at a time like this, so after he ate, he made himself scarce.  The roof of his mother's old house, in which some of Alcmene and Jason's servants now lived, had been leaking.  Now seemed as good a time as any to work on repairs.

*****

Hercules worked until fading light forced him inside.  He ate a cold supper that the cook had prepared, but excitement and anxiety curbed his appetite.  Once or twice, he heard faint, muffled wails of pain from the upper level of the house, and he experienced the familiar, heart-wrenching sense of complete helplessness that had haunted him during the birth of his own children.  Restlessly, he went back out to the barn and occupied himself by putting the finishing touches on a cradle that Jason had lovingly built.  Business in Corinth had prevented him from completing the project.

Hercules worked on the cradle by torch light until he could no longer keep his eyes open, then went back inside and sprawled out on one of his mother's sofas.  He didn't think he'd be able to sleep much, but at least he could catch a few winks.

*****

"Come on, Xena... keep pushing!"  Alcmene's voice had grown hoarse from giving the younger woman encouragement.  Xena squatted in the straw that had been scattered on the floor.  Veins bulged in her neck and temples as she strained with the effort.  Cyrene knelt behind Xena, bracing her daughter with surprisingly strong arms.

"I can see the head!" the midwife announced, hovering before the laboring woman.  "Keep at it!  Just a bit more—"  The midwife got the top of the baby's head in her skilled hands and began gently easing it out.  "Keep pushing!"  Xena was almost purple, and sweat bathed her from scalp to feet.

"That's right, that's wonderful!"  Alcmene could see the baby's head now, and the midwife worked on the shoulders.  "Don't stop!" the midwife chided.  "Help me!"  And under her breath, "Gods, this _must_ be a boy—"  With one more great heave, the rest of the baby suddenly popped out into the midwife's hands.  Xena clutched her mother's arms, gasping for breath.  A moment later, she strained again and expelled the afterbirth.

"It's a girl!" said the midwife, visibly awestruck.  She gave the baby's bottom a little smack, and the child let forth a low, healthy, squall.  The four women burst out laughing.

"Name of Zeus, girl, did you lay with a Titan?" asked the amazed midwife, staring down at the baby in her arms.

"Not quite," said Xena with an exhausted smile.

"She's beautiful!" Alcmene pronounced.  The midwife tied and cut the umbilical cord, then held the infant so Xena could see.  The new mother was too spent to even hold her baby.  It had taken every ounce of Xena's considerable strength to deliver the child, and the ordeal had left her weak as a kitten.

Cyrene cleaned her granddaughter while Alcmene and the midwife helped Xena wash up.  They got her into a linen shift and eased her into bed, where Xena curled on her side, so weary she could barely move.  Cyrene came over and gently set the baby girl down in the crook of Xena's arm.

"You looked just like this when you were born," Cyrene marveled.

"Really?" Xena whispered.

"Well," her mother amended.  "You weren't _that big."_

Xena studied the infant with avid fascination.  She'd seen plenty of new babies, had helped deliver some of them herself, but she'd never seen any quite as large as her own daughter.

The girl had a plump little body with long arms and legs, and a round, squashed-looking head.  Her skin was a mottled red-purple.  The knotted remnant of her umbilical cord lay against her belly.  A downy ruff of black hair decorated her scalp.  Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut.  She breathed evenly, letting out occasional squawking noises when she exhaled.  Xena slipped her forefinger into the baby's palm.  Automatically, the five tiny digits wrapped around her larger one.  Xena felt a surge of love and warmth and awe wash over her.  She leaned down and kissed the baby's head.

Alcmene, who had left the room briefly, poked her head in the doorframe.  "Is it all right for Hercules to see her?"  Xena nodded.

"It's fine," Cyrene called.

A moment later, Xena heard her friend's quiet footsteps.  From the bed, she smiled faintly up at Hercules.  "Come see."

He sat on a chair beside the bed and looked at the naked baby lying on the coverlet.  He looked as awestruck as the midwife.

"Hello there," he said, venturing a finger to stroke the girl's soft cheek.

Cyrene came over to the bedside, glowing with pleasure.

"What are you going to name her?" she asked Xena.

Xena looked up at her loved ones.  She knew they'd be expecting her to name the baby after Gabrielle, but the pain of that loss was still too close.  There was, however, someone else whose life she could honor.

"M'Lila," she decided.  "Her name is M'Lila."

"That's a beautiful name," Hercules told her.

"It's the name of a girl who once saved my life," said Xena, brushing her fingers over the baby's head.  "She died taking an arrow that was meant for me."

She couldn't begin to tell the others what it meant to name her daughter after that long-lost friend.  M'Lila's death had sent Xena reeling, started her on a ten-year path of brutal destruction.  Ultimately, compassion for an infant's life had startled her into realizing the depth of her own evil and had given her the courage to find a way out of the hatred that bound her.  Gabrielle's death had plunged her back into that mindless anger.  Again, concern for a child—this time her own—had saved her.  In a sense, she'd come full circle twice.

Hercules reached out and squeezed her hand, as if he'd read her thoughts.  He had tears on his face and he turned away abruptly, as if ashamed.

"I envy you, Hercules," she said softly.

He smiled and let go of her hand.  As Xena had done, he placed an index finger in the baby's palm and watched as her tiny fingers curled around his own.  Xena saw the look on his face and could almost read his mind.  Even barely moments out of her mother's womb, M'Lila had an amazingly strong grasp.

"So, out of death, life comes again," said Hercules.  Xena's gaze met his, understanding him perfectly.  From the tragedy of Gabrielle's death, this remarkable person had her beginning.

The baby blinked a couple of times and stared up at Hercules with shocking clarity for so young a being.  Little M'Lila had her mother's deep blue eyes, which she then shifted in Xena's direction.  As if aware of the growing she had ahead of her, and the fuel she would need to achieve her many inches, she opened her pink, toothless mouth and let forth a deep, indignant wail that set everyone in the room laughing.

"All right, all right, you want your breakfast, don't you?" Xena scolded lovingly.  She pulled herself into a sitting position, took M'Lila in her arms, and cradled the baby against her breast.  With some encouragement, the infant found her mother's nipple and began to suck.  Xena kissed the round head and whispered, "Welcome to the world, little one."

Hercules looked out the window.  Dawn broke on the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year.  He looked again at the newborn girl and thought, welcome to the world, M'Lila.  He thought of all the things he might say to this child, but that for the present would remain unspoken.  _You don't know it now, but one day you'll realize you're different.  And you'll want to be like everyone else.  But you never will be.  You're special.  You're very special.  And that means you can make a difference._

But would that difference be for good or for ill?  Hercules had no way of knowing.  Only time would tell.

______________________________________________________________________________

For the rest of this story, read _April Fools by E.A. Week, available through Unicorn Press, PO Box 3177, Greensburg, PA  15601  $25 (includes priority shipping), 442 pp._


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